by W. Arthur
Joel Preston planned to spend his summer break from college getting a tan. However, painting his uncle's house was not the way he wanted to do it. Rather, he had visions of sitting in a lifeguard chair at Shermahorn Beach, letting the sun fall kindly on his bare shoulders while he watched nubile young women frolic in string bikinis. Unfortunately, his mother had other ideas.
Kevin Fitzhugh was Joel's mother's baby brother and her favorite sibling. Uncle Kevin's National Guard unit had been called up and deployed to the Middle East for six months. Someone had to paint the house, perform minor repairs, and care for the yard while he was away. It didn't matter to Joel's mother that Kevin's wife, Cara, would be there. Thus, after several heated discussions, a few serious threats, and the offer of a thousand dollars to work around the house for six weeks, Joel agreed. What else could he do?
So now, on a hot sunny day in mid-June, Joel was standing on a step-ladder at the rear of the split-level house that belonged to his Uncle Kevin and Kevin's schoolteacher wife, Cara. Hanging from the ladder was a bucket of white primer and a roller. The siding of the house seemed to go on forever; however, at least he was outside with his shirt off.
He had been at the house for three days and had rarely seen his aunt, a woman he barely knew anyway because she and his uncle had only been married for three years. All Joel really knew about her was that she taught high school English and was about the same age as Kevin - perhaps mid thirties. Joel didn't think she was necessarily a bad looking woman... for her age. She certainly didn't measure up to the young slender co-eds he was used to lusting after at Green Forest College.
However, today she was home, her obligations to the high school completed for the year. Joel had seen her briefly in the kitchen earlier this morning, just before he went outside to work on the house. She had smiled at him and casually told him that she would be having a few friends over later - colleagues from work, she said. Joel had nodded politely and then went about his business. What Cara did with her 'colleagues' didn't interest him, unless they were planning on helping him with the painting or the yardwork.
The cars began pulling up to the house around ten o'clock. By ten-fifteen, Joel could see five early middle-age women plus Cara gathered in the lower level family room. They were sitting casually in chairs, munching vegetable sticks and sipping ice tea. He didn't really intend to watch them; however, he was working on that side of the house and their conversation was loud and animated - something about school politics that somehow degenerated into a discussion about the relative adequacies and inadequacies of men in general. When a few of the women began describing sexual techniques that never failed to excite them, they became very difficult to ignore. It was truly amazing how their voices carried through the open window.
Thus, Joel Preston, twenty-year-old college student, spent a little more time than he had intended painting the trim around the windows that led into the family room. Occasionally, he would get back on the ladder and slap a few more coats of primer on the siding, especially when one of the women caught a glimpse of him gazing in and flashed him a smile. He reminded himself that he hadn't wanted to spend the summer at this house and he certainly didn't want to admit to himself that he might possibly be attracted to any woman that was perhaps fifteen to twenty years older than he was.
By eleven, he was so thoroughly disgusted with himself that he moved the ladder away from the windows and concentrated all of his effort on the house. Just get the job done, he told himself... what's going on inside is absolutely none of your concern. Still, when he could no longer make out any conversation, he became curious. He hadn't heard any car doors slamming or engines starting. Then, ten minutes later, when he began to hear what sounded like whispering and moaning coming from inside, his curiosity completely overwhelmed him. He just had to find out what was going on in the house.
Armed with his small paintbrush, he rather stealthily moved to the side of the first window. While he pretended to slap the brush against the wood trim, he managed to align his head with the glass while not exposing the rest of his body. Carefully, he peered into the family room. What he saw when his eyes adjusted to the low light was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. Four of the women were lying on the floor completely naked. They had formed pairs and were facing each other, their arms and legs tangled. One woman in each pair had a large vibrating dildo and was busy working it in and out of her partner's vagina.
Even from a distance, Joel could see everything, and he was totally transfixed. These women, like his aunt, weren't necessarily the most beautiful in the world. However, the show they were putting on more than made up for any shortcomings they may have had in the looks department. After all, he reasoned as he struggled to keep his tongue in his mouth and his penis from poking a hole in the front of his shorts, looks aren't everything. Looks may even be grossly overrated.
Suddenly, he remembered the only date he had ever had with Mandy Carstairs. She was a cheerleader who fit the stereotype perfectly. She also turned out to be boring and completely self-absorbed. Joel was so disgusted with her that he might very well have turned her down if she had invited him to have sex with her. Of course, she didn't invite him, so the whole issue was moot. Still, he had learned something of a lesson about young women who had all the attributes of lingerie models.
A small voice inside his head tried to suggest that he stop staring and go back to work before somebody saw him. However, that voice was drowned out by other voices, voices fueled by youthful testosterone. Not only did he continue to gaze in silent awe at the small orgy taking place in the family room of his uncle's house, he eventually dropped the paintbrush into the grass. It didn't bother him at all that he'd only seen four women or that Cara wasn't among them. After a few more minutes, a herd of buffalo could have been stampeding toward the house and he probably wouldn't have noticed.
It took a firm hand on his shoulder to bring him back to reality. He snapped his head around hard and looked directly into the brown eyes of his aunt. She was half smiling and half scowling at him. "You've stopped working," she said.
He flushed slightly and quickly picked up the discarded paintbrush. "Uh... I... was just letting the first coat dry," he stammered. He felt the trim with his fingers. "Almost there," he said.
Cara laughed. "That's pretty lame," she exclaimed. She gazed through the window. "I wouldn't think a group of old schoolteachers would interest a kid your age," she said. "But I guess I was wrong. Or maybe you're just really hard up."
Joel desperately tried to think of something to say, some appropriate words that would help to extricate him from the appearance of being little more than a peeping Tom. He certainly wasn't making a favorable impression on Cara, the wife of his mother's favorite brother. When word of this disgrace got out, he would never hear the end of it.
The older woman shifted her gaze back to the hapless college student. "Since it appears that you'd rather watch them than paint, I assume that no more work is going to get done around here for awhile," she said. "And if that's the case, you might as well come inside where you can get a better view and I don't have to worry about what you're doing out here."
The invitation surprised him, although he wasn't quite sure why. And a part of him wanted to accept the invitation, to go with his aunt into the family room, to see up close how women pleasure each other. Maybe he could even learn a few things. However, another part of him knew that it would somehow be very dangerous to go in the house, to venture into the unknown, where he would be outmatched by six older, more experienced women. He shook his head. "Uh... maybe I should just get back to work," he said finally. "I... I'm sorry, Aunt Cara. I didn't mean to look through the window."
Cara laughed and touched his slightly trembling hand. "You don't want to go back to work," she declared. "You know that and so do I." Then, with a surprisingly strong grip, she grasped his fingers and pulled him to his feet. "Let's go inside and see what happens."
All the young man could do at this point was to nod and follow helplessly, like a puppy on a leash.
When they were inside the house, Joel could hear more distinctly the moans and shrieks of pleasure coming from the family room. It further aroused him, and soon thoughts of danger began to drown in a churning sea of lust. There would be no turning back now.
In the family room, the women were now massed together, naked legs tangled with naked arms, facial lips pressed against moist pink vaginal lips. The original four Joel had seen through the window had been joined by the fifth. At the bottom of the short staircase, Joel and Cara stopped. "Do you like what you see, Joel?" she asked, smiling widely.
As he thought vaguely about the question, he understood that it was pretty silly. It was practically every man's fantasy. He only wished that he could strip off his shorts and get down on the floor with them. And perhaps that wasn't out of the realm of possibility. Perhaps, he considered, that was why he had been invited in - these women needed a man and he was available. It no longer concerned him that he was in his uncle's house, thinking about getting it on with his uncle's wife and her friends, while Kevin was in the Middle East, presumably in harm's way.
Cara laughed again and touched his fingers. "Sit down, Joel... make yourself comfortable. It looks like they're just about finished."
Keeping his wide eyes fixed on the erotic scene on the floor, Joel tumbled backward into the nearest armchair. His fully erect penis was causing him pain and it was all he could do to keep his hand from pulling it out to give himself some relief.
The five women pleasuring each other were not nearly as close to being finished as Cara had predicted. In fact, just as the chorus of moans seemed to be reaching its climax, Cara herself stripped off her shorts and top and plunged into the fleshy mass, soon to be swallowed up. As Joel watched he couldn't tell where one woman started and the other ended. They all seemed to have merged into one. It reminded him a little of some silly cartoon he used to watch as a kid in which the superhero characters would merge to form some kind of weapon. In the case of the women, however, their mutual goal seemed to be to achieve the most mindblowing orgasm that was humanly possible.
Then finally - just as Joel thought he would lose his mind completely - it was over. At first, the women could do nothing more than remain on the floor, breathing hard and slowly disentangling themselves from each other.
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